What Heroes Do
by Frank Palladin
Summary: Spiderman has a beer...


What Heroes Do

Spiderman was depressed. This fact would have surprised nearly everyone who thought they new him, but it shouldn't have. Yeah, he had awesome powers, muscles that most men would trade at least one testicle for, and by the standards of most women, he wasn't too bad looking, though few had actually seen his face and were aware of it.

Women, now there was a cheery subject! His first love had been tossed to her death... and his actions had actually helped in that death. Had he let her fall into the water and jumped in after her, she might well have survived. Then there was Mary Jane, a red-haired beauty who had actually married him. That had been a mistake. He took another sip of his beer.

He looked down at the pavement below. From where he sat on the edge of the building, from this height, even he would not survive the fall. All he'd have to do would be to just step out a few feet from the ledge and then do nothing. Gravity would do the rest. Mary Jane would be better off without him.

"You come here often?" said a voice.

Spiderman turned around in surprise. Normally his spider sense would have warned him about someone intruding upon his solitude. For some reason, it hadn't worked this time. He saw a man in his early thirties carrying a wooden tool box slung over his left shoulder on a leather strap. Various tools hung over the edge of the tool box, mostly carpenter tools, some very old looking ones. Ben Parker had possessed an old wooden jack plane like the one he saw in the box.

The man himself was fairly unremarkable, he looked tough, but he walked with a limp as he approached Spiderman, and his face looked as though he'd taken a beating recently. There were scabbed over wounds on his brow and he moved slowly, as though the Carhart shirt he wore irritated his skin.

"You kidding?" Spiderman asked. "I'm up here all the time!"

"You must have an interesting life," said the carpenter. "I only get up here once in a while. There isn't much woodworking to do on the tops of these kinds of buildings. I fix other things then."

"What, roof leaks and such?" asked Spiderman. "I would give anything to just have a normal life like you have."

"You sure about that?" asked the man. "You got another beer? I'm told I'm a good listener, and I'd love to hear the story of your life. "

Spiderman pulled another beer from the six-pack he'd carried up here and handed it to the man. He'd come up here to be alone, but found that he didn't mind this man's company. Most people were either frightened, disgusted, or in awe. This dude just sat down on the ledge as if The Amazing Spiderman was just another Joe.

So Spiderman told the carpenter about Gwen and Mary Jane, how the newspapers made him out to be some kind of crook, his constant worries about his enemies finding out about his family, the financial problems that plagued every newlywed couple. At some point, he began to see how unimportant his problems really were.

"Another beer?" Spiderman asked.

"No thanks, buddy," said the carpenter. "Truth be told, beer isn't my favorite... I prefer wine."

He stood up then and walked out away from the building. Spiderman stared.

"Walking on air is not so different from walking on water," said Jesus. "Now, I wouldn't suggest you try this, and I don't think you really want to anymore. You have found that people don't often appreciate what is done for them. Like I did, though, you keep on doing it anyway. That is what heroes do."

He adjusted the strap of his tool box and started walking away out over the yawning abyss below, then stopped and turned back.

"Open another beer," he said, "enjoy it, and then go back to work. There's a murder about to be committed down on the street below, that prostitute picked a bad customer, but I think you can save her this time. Give her the last beer when you're done. I'll take care of her the next time. Oh, and your Gwen sends her love."

He turned around then and walked off into the clouds, fading away as he went. Spiderman reached for the beer and opened it. He found it filled with the sweetest wine he'd ever tasted.

He grabbed the last beer, swung down, and pulled the prostitute from the car, punching the would-be murderer in the face as he did so.

"What did you do that for you damned bug?" she shouted at him.

"No reason," said Spiderman. "Have a beer," he said, handing her the last beer.

She accepted it warily, opened it and took a sip. Surprise lit up her face, and she looked at the label.

"Thanks," she said. "But really, why did you punch out my customer?"

"He was going to kill you," said Spiderman.

"You sure?"

"Yup."

"Then I guess I owe you." she said. She took another sip of the wine in her beer can and looked back at Spiderman.

"I know why I do what I do," she said. "You could make millions with your abilities, but instead you are out saving whores from their own mistakes. Why do you do it? What's your reward?"

"It's just what I do," said Spiderman. "Some day, you do a favor for somebody else. Something that has no benefit for you. You might understand then."

Before her astonished face, he ran up the side of the building and began to make his rounds. That night, he would be spat upon, shot at, and cussed out by people he was saving. For some reason, he didn't mind, though.

He figured that he was in good company.


End file.
